


Unspoken, unseen

by orphan_account



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Afghanistan, Angst, Crying, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tags updated as chapters are updated, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has Nightmares, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Waterboarding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-13 07:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18935935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Events in the MCU revolving around Tony that most likely happened but are not shown on screen.Chapter 1: Afghanistan'What have I become?' Tony let the tears flow out of his eyes, salt stinging in the cuts. He probably had messed up his back and shoulders but he couldn't bring himself to care, simply sitting, feeling hollow.He sobbed, muffling his cries with his hands.What have I become?





	Unspoken, unseen

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS:
> 
> References to:  
> \- Past alcohol abuse  
> -Past self-harm  
> -Past suicidal thoughts  
> -Brief description of torture  
> -Mentions of cuts (from torture)  
> -Panic Attacks  
> -Blood

_Happy, Rhodey, Pepper. Happy, Rhodey, Pepper. Happy, Rhodey, Pepper._ Tony repeated this mantra over and over as he stumbled over the desert sand. The air shimmered cruelly hot and angry, burning his eyes, his skin, his _heart_. Over endless dunes he went, panting and trudging, barely breathing, barely seeing anything except the glaring white. Tony’s foot caught in the sand, and he fell, almost too tired to lift himself off the searing sand. Tears of defeat burned in his eyes.

 

 _“Don’t waste your life”._ Tony desperately fought against the _universe_ which seemed to claw against his body and his will, determined to live for the undeserved second chance he had received. With the strength he had left coursing through his veins, he stood. _I refuse to die. Not here, not now. I’m alive for a reason_.

 

With renewed vigor, Tony churned on. Just when the hopelessness started to beat against his ribcage again, he heard them. Helicopters. Relief flooded through him like a tide, pulling away the worry and fear. He couldn’t help but yell with unconfined joy, falling on his knees and holding up a sign of peace as tears coursed down his face, laughing weakly despite the circumstance.

 

Figures exited the helicopters, and one lone figure ran faster than them all. _Rhodey_. Rhodey pulled him into a hug, and Tony didn’t care that his burnt skin screamed at the comforting contact. He buried his face into Rhodey’s shoulder and he let his face fall into a sob. Tony’s body shook with his cries, _I’m gonna be okay._

 

Rhodey pulled Tony to his feet, slinging an arm around his shoulder when Tony stumbled, weak from hours of walking. They only took three steps before Tony’s legs gave out he fell to his knees. Tony’s head was swimming, and he was sure that he felt worse than the time he downed a bottle of vodka at a college party. He wearily lifted his eyes from the sand to the panicked form kneeling in from of him.

 

“..ny!…Tony!…you…hear me?…are… okay?” Rhodey’s hands were shaking his shoulders, and Tony surfaced through the haze in his head. Rhodey pulled the scrap of a jacket off of his head, recoiling slightly at the sight of blood running down the side of his face and neck. “Jeez Tony, what the hell happened?”, Rhodey tried to gently tug to Tony to his feet but to no avail. “Tony, we need to get this taken care of,” he said, trying again, voice softer.

 

Tony was slowly becoming hyper-aware of his surroundings; Rhodey tugging on his arms, fingers around his raw skin and the soldiers, standing warily, and _too close, too close, get away,_ Tony thought, pushing weakly at Rhodey.

 

“M’ fine, 'm fine, just… need a minute… _fuck_.” he cursed, suddenly aware of the magnitude of pain he was in. In all honesty, Tony just wanted to lay down, cry, and sleep, preferably in that order. The car battery in his chest felt like it was made out of acid, burning a hole in his body. Tony realized that his heart was probably beating too fast to be reasonably healthy and he breathed heavily, clutching at the metal that seemed to be choking him. One of the soldiers stepped in to help Rhodey, placing a gloved hand on Tony’s uninjured shoulder.

 

“Uh, sir— we real—“ he started, before Tony lashed out because he _didn’t want to be touched why couldn't anyone understand that he was drowning in his own head and his heart was gonna tear out of his chest—-_

 

“ ** _Don’t,_** ” Tony hissed, slapping his hand away, “ ** _fucking. Touch. Me._** ” He breathed raggedly, feeling himself spiraling out of control. “ _Shit,”_ he gasped, curling in on himself, fisting his hands in his hair and _pulling_ , because he could _swear_ that he wasn’t kneeling in the hot-as-shit sand in Afghanistan with a car battery in his chest keeping him alive. Oh, and also he had just escaped some terrorists.

 

Rhodey felt an ache in his chest watching his best friend spiral like he was, wishing that the world could give Tony a break. This wasn’t the first time he had dealt with Tony’s anxiety attacks, and he turned to the soldier who had been knocked back on his ass by Tony and hastily apologized.

 

“He needs some space right now,” Rhodey stood and addressed the soldiers. “Go back to the chopper and make sure our med supplies are prepped.” He slowly knelt in front of Tony again, not wanting to startle him.

 

Tony was rocking back and forth on the ground, mumbling to himself. Rhodey hesitated, not knowing what to do. This was the worst he had ever seen Tony in the twenty-some years they had known each other. Even back in their college days, Rhodey was the one that brought Tony back to reality after Howard chased him through his dreams. Rhodey was the one who talked him out of the bottle, away from the razor, off of the ledge. Now, he didn’t know what to do in the face of an entirely new situation.

 

Rhodey brought his face down to Tony’s level, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

 

“Please… don’t, I’ll build it… stop, stop, stop, it _hurts it hurts, you're hurting me_ … please…” Tony whimpered, eyes unfocused and glazed over. His shaking hands ran uncoordinatedly over his shins and back up to tug on his hair. “Please… just _let me die_ … I can’t…”

 

“Oh, _Tony,_ ” Rhodey said, his own eyes brimming with tears. “ _Hey,_ look at me. You’re gonna be okay, okay? You’re not there anymore. You’re here, with me. I’m Rhodey. James Rhodes. You’re my friend, and I’m gonna make sure that you’re okay. Can I touch you?” Rhodey waited patiently for a response from Tony, who had stopped his frantic mumbling to raise his head.

 

Tony slowly raised his eyes to meet Tony’s, and Rhodey’s breath hitched when he met his eyes. Tony’s eyes were rimmed with red, and he had the far-away look in his eyes of someone who had spoken with Death.

 

“Rhodey?” he whispered, voice unsteady and _broken_.

 

“Yeah Tony, it’s me,” Rhodey said softly. He carefully shuffled over, opening his arms in an invitation for Tony. He didn’t expect Tony to surge forward, desperately wrapping his arms around Rhodey’s back, fingers digging harshly into his skin.

 

Rhodey closed his eyes and reciprocated the action, eyes burning because _Tony was safe._ He held Tony, squeezing him tighter when he realized that Tony was shaking, hoping to be his anchor.

 

They stayed like that for a long time, until Tony calmed down, heart slowing and breaths slowing into soft patters. Rhodey shifted, pulling Tony back to look at his face when he realized that Tony had passed out, a dead weight in his arms. The medics took Tony’s limp body away, leaving Rhodey wondering what the hell he was going to.

 

* * *

 

The chopper began it’s ascent into the sky, leaving behind a haze of sand; among the dust was part of Tony’s soul, a part of him left behind. In its place was a deep void, a scar to haunt him for years. It left an ache felt on the loneliest nights where Tony’s chest burned with each breath, it left a gaping chasm he tried filling with alcohol, loud music, and girls. 

 

He wouldn’t know the hurt, the pain, the nightmares until months later, not until the horror settled in his bones. The event put a permanent stamp, a cruel reminder in his head that he was spared from death, a “gift”, which in Tony’s head was ironic, seeing the number of times he wished that _he_ was the one who died, laying there in the dark cave, consumed by flames.

 

But born out of that fire of destruction was something greater. Tony, laying in the chopper, barely conscious as the medics shouted to each other frantically, looked amidst the chaos, past the pain, to the small sliver of light coming from the window.

 

 _The sky’s beautiful today_ , came a thought, pushing through the mess in his head. Somehow, a wave of sudden hope washed through him. _Don’t waste your life. Don’t waste your life. Don’t waste your life._ Yinsen’s words seemed to flow around him, resonating deeply inside his heart.

 

It was then when Tony was laying broken and bleeding, that he decided that he wanted to make a change. _I’ve had enough of death and destruction._ And there, he promised himself that he would be a better man, to try at least, to live out his second chance.

 

Before he succumbed to unconsciousness, his last thought rang clearly through his head. _Thank you_. He thanked Yinsen, Rhodey, the universe, anything and everything that brought him there to that moment.

 

And then Tony drifted, to a dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

When he came to, the first thing Tony saw was light. Through his severe disorientation, he could make out several figures crowded around him, too much like how he woke up during his operation in the cave. 

 

Looking around through his blurry vision, he spotted a cart of medical tools. In a newfound panic, Tony tried to push the people away when he realized that he couldn’t move his arms. Painfully sharp awareness jolted through the lethargic fog clouding his head. Input flooded his senses, and he could feel every bruise, cut, and burn on his body. Tony could hear the too-loud beeping of the heart monitor, roar of the plane engine, and people shouting. The people were messing with the car battery, prodding at the mangled skin around it, fresh blood seeping around his bandages. _They’re gonna kill me. They’re going to rip that straight out my chest—- shit, shit, shit—-_

 

Fear drowned out all logical reasoning and composure in Tony and he jerked in the restraints to find that his legs were tied down too.

 

“—Hold him down! He’s gonna rip out the IVs—“

 

“He’s panicking, Miller! He knows he’s restrained, give him a sedative—-“

 

“Jeez, he’s bleeding all over the place—“

 

“—-his heart rate—-“

 

“—what do I do with whatever’s in his chest?!!”

 

“ _The fucking sedative Miller!—“_

 

 _“_ Chill out, I need a minute!—“

 

 _“_ Shit. Hurry up, I can’t calm him down—“

 

“Stop, stop, stop,” Tony begged, fear clouding his eyes. “Please,” he sobbed. They were _hurting_ him and they were going to kill him. Hands seemed to claw at his arms and chest and Tony thrashed wildly, trying to escape them.

 

“For the love of— jeez— here’s the sedative,” the medic reappeared with a mask in his hand. The figures around him tightened their hold on him and Tony _couldn’t breathe._

 

_They’re gonna drug me and hurt me like they did last time—-_

 

Tony screamed against the restraints, desperate to get away, not caring that he was probably tearing the skin around his wrists and ankles.

 

The mask was shoved over his mouth and nose, cold plastic digging into the skin under his eyes. Cool air rushed into his lungs and against his will, he calmed, heart rate slowing and flailing limbs growing heavy, now only weakly jerking against the restraints and hands holding him down. Another figure rushed to his side, a familiar voice bringing security and relief.

 

“What the hell did you do to him?” demanded Rhodey, “I heard him screaming the _other side of the plane_. The _other_ side!” Tony felt a gentle hand in his hair and leaned into the touch. He felt himself fading away, his eyes slipping closed.

 

“Sir, uh- he was panicking, a-and we had to sedate him.” came a voice. _Miller_ , Tony’s drugged brain provided. The world was getting fuzzier by the second, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

 

An exasperated sigh from Rhodey. “Okay, okay. I’ll uh, let you get back to work.” Tony thought Rhodey would leave then, but he stayed, running his hand through Tony’s blood and sweat-matted hair until he surrendered to sleep. The last thing Tony felt was Rhodey gently wiping the tears off of his face with his sleeve.

 

* * *

 

The next time Tony came to, he felt measurably calmer. He smelled clean sheets and antiseptic, making the conclusion that he was still in medical. He cracked open one eye, peering around until he came across a familiar face.

 

“Rhodey?” Tony’s voice was wrecked and cracked on the second syllable. He cleared his throat, wincing at the pain and the memory of screaming his lungs out. Glancing down at his body, he frowned at the many bandages littering his limbs.

 

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.” Rhodey looked up from the newspaper he was reading and cracked a small smile in Tony’s direction. “How are you doin’ man? You put up one hell of a fight back there. Had me worried.”

 

Tony groaned, rubbing his face with his uninjured hand. “Ah-yeah. Kinda uh- freaked out for a second. Anyway,” he said, wanting to change the subject, “how long was I out?” He reached down to pick at the bandages covering his chest.

 

“A day, Tony. You were in pretty bad shape. We flew you from Afghanistan to a base in Bahrain. Now we’re in the middle of the Atlantic, headed to California.” Rhodey reached out and gently peeled Tony’s hands away from his injuries. There was an awkward lull in their conversation.

 

Tony lay still for a second before he sat up suddenly, cursing quietly at the pounding in his head from the sudden action. “Uh, great. I’m just gonna go and uh— clean up, maybe—“ He swung his legs over the side of his bed and Rhodey jumped up in alarm.

 

“Jeez Tones, slow your roll for a minute,” he pled, trying to push Tony back into a reclined position. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. Sit down man, please,” he said when Tony continued to attempt to stand.

 

“Nope, none can do,” quipped Tony, pushing Rhodey’s hands out of the way.

 

“Tony.” Rhodey tried, putting force behind the word. “ _Tony,_ ” he said firmly, snapping his fingers in front of Tony’s face, not missing the way he flinched at the sudden sound. Rhodey paused briefly, regretting the action. “ _Listen_ to me, Tony. You don’t have to put up this ‘I’m all cool and okay’ act anymore. It’s just you and me, man. I know you’re not okay, and I want you to know that it’s okay if you’re not okay right now. You understand me?” Rhodey brought his face down to Tony’s, looking at him straight in the eye.

 

Rhodey saw the facade break and crumble from Tony’s face, the fear return to his eyes. He seemed to deflate, sitting down heavily on the bed. To Rhodey’s dismay, tears began to well up in Tony’s eyes.

 

Tony cursed, scrubbing his face furiously, reopening some of the minor injuries on his forehead and cheekbones.

 

“S-sor-ry,” he gasped, curling in on himself. “I- I just need a s-second.” Tony dug the heels of his hands into his eyes harshly in a poor attempt to regain composure.

 

“Hey. Tony,” Rhodey started, prying Tony’s fingers off of his face. “You don't need to be sorry for anything. You’re gonna be alright, and yeah,” he scoffed, laying his hand on Tony’s shoulder, “it might take a while. Days, weeks, months, it doesn't matter.” Rhodey paused to make sure Tony was listening. “Listen to me. What matters is that you don’t give up. Sure, this is a bad beat, but I’ve seen you bounce back from anything thrown your way. You don’t feel okay today, that’s okay, ‘cause you’ve got tomorrow. And the day after that too.” Rhodey reached into his pocket for a tissue, placing it on the bed. _Tony didn’t like to be handed things._

 

“Yeah,” Tony whispered quietly, plucking the thin material off the sheets and swiping at his eyes, sighing softly.

 

“I want you to promise me something.” Rhodey’s voice had a quality to it that Tony had never heard before. “I want you to promise me that you’ll never give up on yourself. Can you do that?”

 

Tony paused, bringing his hand down from his face. He thought back to Yinsen, to the promise he made to himself while he lay half-dead, and took a deep breath, wanting to keep the moment -and promise- for the rest of his life.

 

“I promise.” He said quietly and sincerely, and when he raised his eyes to meet Rhodey’s, he knew that the other man could tell that he was being honest.

 

Rhodey looked at him for a lingering moment, and then patted Tony’s shoulder, standing up. He reached into a nearby cabinet, pulling out a first-aid kit.

 

“Let’s get your face cleaned up, alright?” Tony had opened several cuts on his face, a few trickling blood.

 

Rhodey pulled up a chair in front of Tony’s bed, snapping on a pair of gloves. He uncapped the rubbing alcohol, carefully pouring the liquid on a cotton ball. “This is gonna hurt,” he warned, dabbing at the cuts gently.

 

Tony winced at the sting but let Rhodey clean his face, fists balled tightly in his lap, body tense. His mind wandered to a memory, from months ago, when Yinsen had helped him re-bandage his chest every night, checking for infection or bleeding. _He deserves to be here too,_ Tony thought, closing his eyes. _Maybe I don’t deserve this second chance as much as everyone else thinks I do._

 

“So—uh, are you excited to see Happy and Pepper?” Rhodey interrupted his train of self-doubt and broke the stretched silence. “They’re really happy to know that you’re alive. It’s hard to believe, but Happy look Happy.” Rhodey set down the cotton ball and carefully placed the butterfly bandages on the deeper cuts.

 

Tony snorted, opening his eyes. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had felt a flutter in his stomach at the mention of Pepper’s name. “Yeah, I’ve missed them.” He cleared his throat. “A lot.” He smiled slightly, glad to be seeing his friends again. He would see Obie again too; he had missed the man as well. “What happened while I was gone?” he asked, curious about the state of his company and the world.

 

“Well,” Rhodey took off the gloves, placing the medical kit back into the cabinet. Then, he sat next to Tony on the small bed. “The tabloids made up some crack-as-shit stories about where you had gone. Some claimed that you faked your own death, others claimed you joined a rogue terrorist group- it was all noise.”

 

Tony huffed, running his fingers through his unkempt hair. “Yeah, I bet PR had a field day.”

 

“Luckily, Pepper took care of the situation, called a press conference, all that jazz.” Rhodey paused. “I think she really cares about you, Tony. Happy too. Obie helped Pepper keep S.I running, helped organize search and rescue. We never stopped looking for you.”

 

Looking at his hands, Tony said, “Thank you.” Letting out a small chuckle, he looked back at Rhodey.

 

“You know, I celebrated my thirty-eighth birthday in a cave. Not a single girl, shot glass, or cake in sight. I mean celebrated it,” Tony shrugged, with a small smile. “I _guess_ , if you could call drinking bland tea a celebration. Yins…” Tony paused, swallowing. “The uh, man who was held captive with me played checkers with me. We shared a small flask of wine, courtesy of the terrorists. We joked that even they were celebrating my birthday.” In a quieter voice, he recalled the night. “He told me about his family. I… told him about you. Happy. Pepper. Obie. Jeez, all I wanted that night was to go home.” Tony leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, letting his head hang.

 

Rhodey shifted, facing the other man. “Tony… this might be too soon, but, what happened to you over there?”

 

Tony sighed, moving his arms so his head rested in his hands. He began speaking in a quiet voice. “They staged the attack. Took me because they wanted a weapon. The Jericho Missile,”he muttered. “Uh… I didn’t want to do it, my weapons weren’t meant for, you know, _that_.” Tony let out an empty scoff, shaking his head. “They tortured me Rhodey. First, it was just waterboarding. I…c-couldn’t breathe. Thought I was gonna _die._ ”

 

“I’m sorry that happen—’’ Rhodey was interrupted.

 

“I just got worse.” Tony’s voice was nothing like Rhodey had ever heard. It was void, empty, and _flat_ like it held no life. “Made me strip to my boxers. Then they started carving lines into my back. My legs. Drugged me so I wouldn’t fight. Held me down too.”

 

“Tony- you don’t hav-“

“I screamed for them to stop. First time I was desperate enough to beg for mercy. I was… _so_ determined to refuse, thought I was strong enough. But you know what?” Tony turned his head so he was looking at Rhodey.

 

“Look, To—“ Rhodey put his hands up in a placating gesture.

 

“They _broke_ me Rhodey. I don't even think I lasted thirty minutes.” Tony’s self-hatred rolled off of him in steady waves, filling the room. “Howard used to say that Stark men were made of iron. He was wrong.” Tony spat, looking away.

 

Rhodey sat quietly, shocked into silence.

 

Tony sighed heavily. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I— just—“ he sighed again, frustrated with his small outburst.

 

Sensing his distress, Rhodey shook his head.

 

“Don’t apologize. You say sorry one more time and I’m gonna roast your ass, Tony. You have the right to be upset right now okay? I’m sorry all of that happened to you,” he said softy and _genuinely_. “As I said before, it’s gonna be okay one day. I’m here for you man, you know I am.” Before he could change his mind, Rhodey opened his arms in an invitation.

 

Tony looked up and shrank away from the action, slightly shaking his head.

 

“I’m sor— Just— it’s not you, but I—“ he said shakily, guilt coursing through his veins when he saw Rhodey’s slightly off-put expression.

 

“Hey,” Rhodey interrupted, not unkindly. “You don’t have to explain, I understand.” At that, Tony felt an immense wave of gratitude towards his friend because Rhodey _understood_ him. “Why don’t you try to sleep before we reach California? Catch some z’s, I’ll wake you up.”

 

Tony was tired but he was scared. He knew what he would find in his head if he slept, he knew that he would wake up screaming and fighting. He didn't want to drown again because the water felt _so real_ in his dreams, and the blades felt like they cut him to the soul. Every night in the cave he dreamed of home; his lab, Happy, Rhodey, Pepper. He dreamed about what it would be like to finally be home again. Now, after his escape- and rescue- his dreams were plagued with nightmares. _How ironic_ , Tony thought bitterly.

 

“I’d like to clean up actually,” he said suddenly. It was true, he needed to shave and cut his too-long hair. “It’d be nice to look presentable when I arrive, you know, put on a little show for the press.” Tony joked, distracting himself from the fact that he couldn’t- _wouldn’t_ \- sleep.

 

Rhodey studied him for a moment before gaining composure. “Yeah, we have some clothes for you. Bathroom is over there. Call me if you need any help, okay?” He helped Tony stand, and for a minute Rhodey was scared that the younger man would fall over. Tony stumbled but righted himself, taking the clean stack of clothes from Rhodey, grateful to be out of his hospital scrubs and sweats.

 

Tony opened the door to the bathroom and set the clothes down on the small bench. In the quiet moment he had to himself, he stood silently. Bracing himself, he turned to the mirror, terrified of what he was going to find. He found his reflection has was momentarily floored. His hair and beard were slightly over-grown, face pale and thin. His eyes looked the worse, they were accented by the ring of purple signifying his exhaustion and were still red and slightly watery from crying earlier. He shook his head looking away.

 

Now came the worst part. Wincing, Tony pulled the scrubs off. His chest and back were covered in bandages, and he knew what he would find if he took the sweat off as well. He reached behind him, carefully peeling away a corner of a bandage on his back. Underneath, were row after row of lines, some more healed than others, covering the entire expanse of his back—

 

Tony nearly gagged, leaning on the sink for support. _I’m a monster,_ he thought, _a monster_. He knew that the flesh around his shoulders was melted and twisted, likely to scar forever. His chest had a hole in it, a power unit crudely shoved into place.

 

 _No one wants me like this,_ he thought, horror bubbling inside his chest. _I’m disfigured, tainted, ruined for_ life _because this is unfixable, unfixable, unfixa—_

 

Tony heaved, bending over the toilet, ground digging harshly into his bruised knees. He only threw up some bile; he hadn't eaten in days. Pressing down on the handle, Tony leaned back, supporting himself on the cold wall.

 

 _What have I become?_ Tony let the tears flow out of his eyes, salt stinging in the cuts. He probably had messed up his back and shoulders but he couldn't bring himself to care, simply sitting, feeling hollow.

 

He sobbed, muffling his cries with his hands.

 

_What have I become?_

 

* * *

 

The big bay doors opened on the plane, flooding Tony’s vision with light. First, he saw a sliver of clear, blue sky, then a building, some airplanes, cars, and— _Pepper_. Tony walked forward, trying his best to look confident. Between that moment and his bathroom endeavor, Tony had cleaned up nicely; he had trimmed his beard and (attempted) to cut his hair the best he could. Before they landed, he had already pulled on his ‘public persona’ of a cool and collected genius-billionaire- playboy- philanthropist.

 

Tony walked in front of Pepper, who seemed to have cried happy tears and was smiling widely, hair blowing in the wind. _I wish you could love me_ , he thought, knowing that a person like her would never even _think_ about loving him.

 

Tony sniffed. “Hm. Your eyes are red. Few tears for your long lost boss?”

 

“Tears of joy, I hate job hunting,” she snarked.

 

“Yeah, vacation’s over,” he said, smiling slightly at her response. He squared his shoulders and walked on, determined that he was going to make a change, _now_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The summary might have been kinda confusing so I'll lay it out here. Obviously, the MCU doesn't show every waking moment of a character's life on screen, and I wanted to write a fic that filled in some of the blanks. Other ideas I have for this are:
> 
> -Tony meets Pepper for the first time in an interview  
> -Tony takes Peter to get his passport  
> -Tony and Steve have a long talk in Age of Ultron (I think they had to share a room in Clint's house-idk) and learn more about each other's secrets and scars  
> -Moments between Tony and Morgan
> 
> Comment things you want to see!
> 
> My Instagram is @mmarvelously!


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